A Hospital In Jersey
by Brooklynnx
Summary: Marvel & House Crossover A fight with Doctor Octopus over in New Jersey leaves SpiderMan in critical condition, and his only option is to be treated at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, under the care of Dr. Gregory House.
1. The 'Place'

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the featured characters. There. _

_Peter Parker. Full time photographer, part time superhero. But, of course, you know all about him._

Forrest Hills, Queens was not usually a dangerous place. Yes, there were robberies and there were thefts; the usual, as all neighborhoods have them. Peter Parker sat at home next to his girlfriend, Mary Jane, as they watched the news. It was the weekend, and, like all weekends, they spent it in the 'place'.

The 'place' was where Mary Jane met up with either Peter Parker or his alias Spider-Man. It was some sort of old abandoned wear house. Mary Jane would sew his costume, they would chat about recent fights or about school projects, and they would listen to the radio Peter had fixed to listen to police networks, and they would watch the news.

Right now, according to the TV and radio, the city was pretty quiet. Mary Jane was sewing the last hole in his costume--it had been pretty ripped up after his latest fight with Doctor Octavius. Doc Ock's tentacles always did a number on his costume. The four razor-sharp pincers tore it to shreds--not to mention rip off chunks of his flesh and a tooth.

"Almost finished with the hole in the leg," Mary Jane told him.

Peter jumped from the bar he had been doing pull-ups on and flipped over to his girlfriend. He kissed her on the cheek on plopped down beside her. "I should've payed more attention in Home Ec. class," he told her.

"Ya think? We learned how to sew! Didn't you make a teddy bear?"

"Yes, and Mr. Fluffawuffakins is doing fine, besides his missing eye...I wonder how that happened...anyway, thanks for helping me out."

"Like I had a choice?" Mary Jane said. "You don't have any costumes! This was your back-up! I don't even know where to start with your other one."

"I could wear my thermal costume. It is getting cold outside."

"Not yet. You'd be sweating," Mary Jane argued.

"Fine then. I claim you, Mary Jane Watson, to be Spider-Man's savior."

"Darn right!" she laughed. She bit off the threat from her needle and switched her color from red to blue. "You_ had_ to have a multi-colored costume..."

_"Excuse_ me, I'm trying to make a fashion statement, _thank_ you very much."

She looked at him and exhaled. "You were on the worst-dressed list!"

"Who makes those things, anyway?"

"I dunno. Good question."

They laughed, enjoying each other's company. After that it was quiet, except for Mary Jane swearing after she stabbed herself with the needle. Suddenly they heard the television play the theme music that meant 'breaking story'. Peter jumped over to the couch and watched.

_"Doctor Otto Octavius, also known as the villain Doctor Octopus or Doc Ock, has been spotted in Princeton, New Jersey--"_

Peter's mouth fell open. _"Jersey?_ I don't even know anyone in Jersey!"

"Perfect timing! Your costume's done!" Mary Jane said, throwing it at him. Peter smiled and her to look the other way as he changed. Before he pulled his mask on over his face he kissed her cheek. Mary Jane closed her eyes, and when she opened them her boyfriend in his red and blue tights was gone.


	2. Frickin' New Jersey

_"Frickin'_ New Jersey, _frickin'_ Doctor Octopus. Why _Jersey? _Where the heck is he gonna go in _Jersey__?"_ Spider-Man said to himself, crossing over the Verrazano Bridge. Cars were honking at him overhead, and drivers rolled down their windows to shout supportive or demeaning words. Spider-Man honestly didn't hear any of it, as he tuned all else out as he talked to himself.

Spider-Man jumped on top of a truck, his arms tired of swinging. He tried to imagine what Doctor Octopus would be doing in a place like Princeton. It was a nice neighborhood, as far as he was concerned. Maybe it was just an alternate escape route--that seemed to be the likeliest reason of all he could think of.

As he rode on the highway, he heard the sound of a chopper flying overhead. He looked up to see the NYPD helicopter--no doubt headed to the scene Octavius was creating for himself. Figuring it would be a faster means of transportation, Spider-Man aimed a webline at the base of the helicopter and allowed himself to be yanked off of the truck's roof and into the air. The wind was strong and he blew around like the end of a kite, dangling from the large chopper. He pulled himself closer, as the wind currents were knocking him around. He pulled himself to the bottom of the helicopter and stuck to it, crawling around to the side of it and banged on the door.

A stunned police officer allowed Spider-Man in, as the outside air blew everything around. "Phew, thanks. Not fun hanging off the end of this thing. You guys are headed to Octavius, right?"

Two out of the four officers inside nodded. They were wearing heavy NYPD uniforms and helmets with tinted glass. Spider-Man looked at the helmet of the officer who gave him entry and said, "Cool helmet! Can I try it on?"

"No."

"Oh. Can I have one?"

"No!"

Spider-Man sat in the awkward silence that followed. He tapped his knee with his fingers, looking out the window. The pilot soon turned around and told them that they'd be landing in a few minutes; they were right above Princeton. One officer, who sounded much older and harsher, said, "You're not supposed to be here, Spider-Man."

"Why not?"

"Because…you're Spider-Man. And just because there are no current warrants out for your arrest doesn't mean we like you…or that we don't want to arrest you."

Spider-Man rolled his eyes, pretending he did not take offense to the comment. "You know what? That hurt! I'm insulted! Too insulted, in fact, to ride in your stinky little helicopter!" Spider-Man opened the door again, causing the officers to shout. "And I take back what I said about your helmets! They're not cool!"

Spider-Man jumped, working his webbing to form a parachute. He had used this trick several times prior—it came in handy once when the Vulture dropped him a few hundred feet over Jersey. _See, _Spider-Man thought as he made his descent, _Nothing good happens in Jersey! _

As he made his descent, Spider-Man jumped from his parachute onto the roof of a McDonald's. The smell of fast food burning his nose, he stopped and looked around at the area. It was a nice place…a lot of trees, decent restaurants. Where would Octavius go?

Spider-Man spied another speeding police car and hopped on top of it, the officers hitting the roof from inside, telling him to get off. "Shut up and drive!" Spider-Man shouted back. _Oh great. Now I have that song stuck in my head. _

The police car turned a sharp corner, rode about two miles with nothing but trees surrounding it, and then it came to a sign: CAUTION: CHEMICAL PLANT—Spider-man didn't even need to read the rest of it. If Octavius was at a chemical plant, it could only be bad news.

**_A/N: Thank you for the reviews so far! The response was great--much better than I imagined. I am glad you guys think this is a cool idea. I have a lot planned for this one!_**


	3. Going Out With A Bang

The chemical plant was being evacuated as the authorities were arriving. Spider-Man rushed in the building, searching for Doctor Octopus. With the help of a shrieking, fleeing employee, Spider-Man was told that Doc Ock was on the third floor.

Spider-Man found a stairwell, leaped over the withdrawing employees, and tried to make it to the third floor. He was pushed and shoved and elbowed, but as the third floor came into view he felt his stomach get butterflies. Doc Ock nearly killed him a few weeks ago—he was still healing from that fight! What could he be up to now that involved chemicals?

As Spider-Man stood at the front of the stairs on the third floor, he saw a quick flash of a metal tentacle as is passed down a corridor. Spider-Man, light on his toes, pursued with caution. He took cover against the wall, waited at the edge of the corner. Suddenly his spider-sense went nuts, and he quickly ducked as a metal arm smashed the wall where his head had just been.

Spider-Man flipped, rebounded off the stair guard-railing, and rolled to cover as the tentacles rained down on him. As he stood, his frame heaving, he saw Doctor Otto Octavius standing and ready to kill.

"Hey, Ockie-poo! You owe me fifteen bucks for the damage done to my costume!"

_"Silence!_ You were stupid to follow me here, you impudent little insect!"

_Arachnid,_ Spider-Man thought. _I keep telling you people._

Octavius took a metal arm and threw it towards Spider-Man, who leaped over it like an intense game of jump rope. "What are you doing here, Chuckles? What do these chemicals mean to you?"

"And reveal to you my plans? Oh no, Spider-Man! I'll kill you first! I will rip out your heart from your still trembling corpse!"

Even that made Spider-Man raise an eyebrow. "Interesting image. And not a single spleen in it--nice break from Venom," Spider-Man joked as he turned a corner. With the help of his spider-sense, he predicted safe locations to land and to jump and to keep moving to, as a horde of tentacles chased after him--at the center, a man full of hatred and desire to murder Spider-Man.

Spider-Man tripped, rolled, and crashed into a canister. He quickly analyzed it and read the label. He jumped out of the way, saying, "Gee, Ock. For a scientific genius, you sure are stupid. These chemicals are so toxic and unstable you wouldn't even be able to carry them out--why are toxic and unstable chemicals in a nice place like Princeton?"

"You are the fool, Spider-Man! In time you will see!"

"Yep, in time. Like always. You bad-guys just l_ove _the suspense, huh? _Love _the drama. I get enough of that in high school." Spider-Man deflected an attack from a metal arm with his foot, then caught one with both his hands that had been aiming for his throat. He watched as the pincers on the end of the tentacle grasped for his flesh and his life, as he used all his strength to keep them from achieving their goal.

Octavius finally withdrew, walking away calmly as Spider-Man watched his every move, prepared. "You are the fool, Spider-Man. I did not come here for the chemicals. Just as another means to make my escape. And I'm going out with a bang!"

"Going out with a--?"

Suddenly, Octavius used one of his tentacles to smash open a canister. And then another. His spider-sense was going crazy, and he realized how imminent the danger was. Spider-Man ran for the window, spinning a thick cocoon out of webbing to shield himself as the fiery explosion trailing him by mere inches. Spider-Man fell three stories, felt the wind knocked out of him and the heat of the fire, and landed on the ground. And as onlookers and police rushed in after the explosion, they found that he was not breathing.


	4. An Unusual Guest

_Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Home of Dr. Gregory House._

Dr. House was little less than a medical legend to some, with his sarcasm and attitude combined with his experience and knowledge. He often showed up to work more than fifteen minutes late, and refused the cases that he did not find "interesting". Recently House's team had undergone a large makeover, as members Dr. Chase was fired and Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cameron resigned. After a large interview of 40 possible new victims for House, he hired three. Dr. Chris Taub, a slightly balding but insightful and helpful doctor; Dr. Lawrence Kutner, a dark-skinned doctor who was willing to take risks; and the one who mystified House with her past, "Thriteen."

Dr. House walked in the door, using his cane to balance his bad leg while he held his motorcycle helmet under his other arm. He didn't stop until he reached his office, where he kicked back in his chair, propped his feet up on his desk, and stared at the empty white board he always wrote on while with his team. Dr. James Wilson, probably House's only friend within the hospital, knocked and entered. "You realize how late you are, don't you?" He asked. When House failed to answer, or make a nasty comment about his colorful tie, he asked, "Is everything okay?"

"For a minute there I thought I actually missed Cutthroat Bitch"--a doctor interviewing among the 40 that he nicknamed--"But I realized it was just gas."

"Cuddy sent me--"

"Did she ever get her thong back?"

Wilson ignored the question. "She asked me to get you. She said you had a case that would fit your standards of "interesting". She wants to see you immediately."

House pulled his bad leg from off the table. "I should wait for my new team to get here, but what the hell? It's there fault for being _late,_ anyway." He leaned on his cane and exited his clear, glass-walled office. "What kind of case?"

"She didn't say."

"I bet she didn't. I--" Dr. House watched as a group of doctors surrounded an incoming patient that just came in from an ambulance. People were running over just to take a look. House did not delay, and he rushed over to satisfy his curiosity. "Watch out, cripple coming though! Move it, you heartless, little--" he stopped as soon as he saw the patient on the rolling bed. "Holy crap." House quickly turned to face Wilson. "What the hell is Spider-Man doing here?"

"Wow..."

House turned to see Wilson staring at the unmoving body of the super hero, stunned.

"You wanna break into his room and steal his pillowcase? It'll go for a lot on EBay."

"He saved my aunt a year ago. She was almost hit by a stolen car."

"You go buy him a thank-you card. I'm going to find Cuddy. I want the 'hero'." And House sped down and around the corner, using his cane to push off. His mind was jumbled with all sorts of possibilites why Spider-Man was here and what happened. He opened the door to Cuddy's office, intruding on her phone call. He reached, grabbed the phone out of her hand, and hung up on whoever was on the other line.

"House! That was--"

"I want Spider-Man."

"What?"

"He just arrived here on a stretcher. I want him."

"House," Cuddy said, her dark brown, curly hair bouncing as she stood. "You already have your case."

"Yes, but I want that one."

"He's already under someone else's care. Just work on the case you've been assigned." She handed House the case-folder. "I need to go see whoever's in charge of Spider-Man." And, heels clacking on the floor, she raced out. House, not satisfied at all with how the conversation ended, followed at a distance.

After chasing her around the floor, she stopped to speak with a doctor. The doctor placed a folder on the counter and followed Cuddy down the hall where they could talk more privately. House, grinning, placed his own case folder down on the counter beside it. He placed both hands on each folder, did a quick swap, and picked up the case folder. He walked away on his cane, looking down at the case folder open before him. _Spider-Man. Bingo._

House returned to his office, where his new team was waiting for him. House threw the folder on the table. "Okay, Angels. Move. We need to find this patient and move him where no one else can get to him."

Kutner gasped. _"Spider-Man?_ He's _here?"_

House nodded. "I don't care what's wrong with him. He's got freaky mutant powers, that's all I care about. Find him and--"

"We could move him to the Quarantine Wing. Pick an isolated, private room to put him in. It'll be better for the patient anyway--a lot less attention there than a regular room," said Thirteen.

House nodded. "What are you waiting for? Go!" House exclaimed. He followed his team out, telling them to cover him up so no one would notice the hospital's new celebrity. House, wanting to know what happened, went downstairs to see the news playing on the television monitors staioned near the waiting areas. Suddenly a girl rushed inside the hospital. Her eyes were trying not to let out the tears they were holding. Her nose was almost as red as her hair. House watched as the girl went to the reception desk. The woman attending pointed to House. House rolled his eyes as the teenage girl approached him.

"You know, that receptionist has herpes. I diagnosed her, that's why she sent you--"

"Please...where is he?"

"Where is _who?_ Specifics would help. Big hospital."

"You know who. Where is he?" The girl asked.

"He would be..."

The girl whispered, "Spider-Man. Where is he?"

House narrowed his eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"Just tell me."

House pondered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the red-haired girl. He analyzed her, looking up and down. He was silent, his mind pouring out all its contents. After a long moment he said, "You know who he is, don't you?"

The girl's eyes widened, but she didn't reply. "Why would you?--please, just tell me where he is. I came all this way as soon as I heard."

"He's out like a light in the Quarantine Wing. Or, he should be. If not...my team's slower than my last one. Come, follow me--not so fast, kid! Cripple! Hello!?" House said with practiced sarcasm. The girl trailed Dr. House carefully, her eyes fixed directly in front of her. House entered the elevator, allowed her inside, and pressed a button with his cane. The doors closed, and the two were taken up by the machine. The girl didn't say anything.

"How long have you known?" He asked her.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The doors opened. "Sure you don't," he said, and headed down to the wing.

**_A/N: Thanks so much for all the positive, motivating reviews! It means so much! I have never written for Dr. House, so it's a challenge for me--he's such an amazing character. But I'm giving it my all!_**


	5. In The Quarantine Wing

As soon as Dr. House and the redheaded girl stepped out of the elevator, he was greeted with an angry Dr. Cuddy. She stormed his way, her hands clenched in fists. House told the redheaded girl to walk away as if she didn't know him, but the girl was sure to remain within hearing range.

"You stole Jones' _patient?"_

"It's not _stealing_. It's borrowing without asking. Besides, it wasn't me," House said.

"Oh, stop it. I know it was you."

"Nope."

"Where is he."

"Dunno. He's not my patient, _remember?"_

Dr. Cuddy bit her lip. "Is he okay, at least?"

House gave a short nod. "Depends. Read the_ Bugle_ lately?"

_"House…"_ Cuddy warned.

House groaned. "He's fine, alright? Jesus, woman. Go assign someone a parking space."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, dissatisfied with his answers, and stormed away, still as tense as before. The redheaded girl walked close to House again. "You wanted Spider-Man? Why?"

"You need to learn when to ask questions and when to shut up. Follow me," House said. And they started walking again.

The redhead was shaking, and House either noticed and did not care, or did not care and therefore failed to notice. Either way, House found his staff in the last room in the Quarantine Wing, where an unconscious Spider-Man was resting. The redhead gasped and ran up to his bedside, crying.

"Who is she?" Kutner asked.

House didn't answer. "How's the 'hero' doing?"

"Multiple fractures and cuts. He's lucky to be alive," Thirteen said. "Then again, this kid must go through beatings like this on a weekly basis."

"House, we have to keep this secret. Create an alias for him when taking his X-rays and labs. Our discreetness is the only thing keeping med students from taking a pair of scissors to his mask." Taub told him.

"Well then, what's keeping us?"

"House..."

"The guy's lying on our table _dying._ Okay, maybe he's not dying, but he's still lying on our table. The least he could do is let us have a little peek."

The redhead seemed upset by that comment. "No. No one is touching his mask."

"Again…who is she?" Kutner asked.

"This girl has some sort of 'secret' relationship with our patient. And—" He was interrupted by a moan. Spider-Man's moan. He was awake.

**_A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I'll have another one up soon! Thanks for all the support!_**


	6. Sedation

The room had gone quiet immediately after Spider-Man's body switched position and moaned, signaling that he was indeed awake. The redheaded girl hovered over him, as his body twitched and stirred. "Hey, Spidey. It's me. Hey, Webster."

"Urgh…MJ? Where…where am I?"

"Hello, Spider-Man. I'm Dr. House. You're in New Jersey's--"

"What happened?" Spider-Man interjected.

"You fought some crazy person and suffered a concussion from the explosion and the fall. And, according to these X-rays"—he held up a few results to the light—"You also broke your left arm, two ribs, and have several cuts and scrapes. But I'm sure a 'hero' like you can handle _that."_

"Wait…the explosion! Is everyone okay? Did anyone die?"

"It's an _explosion!_ What do _you _think?" House snapped. "Not the smartest kid in math class, huh, Webhead?—I have always wanted to say that. Here," he walked over with the help of his cane to a table beside the bed, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television that was hanging from the ceiling. "Watch the news. It'll answer any dumb questions your brain can come up with." The television was covering the scene at the chemical plant. He shook his head. "All those people…I can't believe it..." Spider-Man sighed.

"Are you kidding? You just stopped Doctor Octopus! That's amazing! You saved lives today!" Kutner said, impressed.

"That won't bring those people back."

"Well, you couldn't have saved _everybody._ Try being realistic. Come one--everyone? That's not rational!" Taub said.

"Well, look who you're talking to," House said. "This Halloween Boy wouldn't no rational if it punched him in the face...like everyone else seems to be doing. Looks like the trend is catching on." He sighed and turned to leave. "Okay, 'hero', we'll be back with your—"

"No," Spider-Man said, throwing the bed sheets off his body and standing up beside the redheaded girl.

"Going so soon?" Dr. House asked, pretending he cared.

"I don't do hospitals, bunkie. I'm going."

"You're not in any shape to go _anywhere_, Spider-Man," Thirteen told him.

"I heal faster than normal people."

"Even so, you need at least an hour's rest in order to function at all. You are safe here, in the Quarantine Wing. No one is coming near you."

"And I'm here," the redhead girl said. "Just rest. Okay? Please?"

"Your little groupie of a girlfriend is right, Spider-Man," House said.

Spider-Man tensed. "What are you talking about. She's not—?"

"Oh, cut the _crap_ already. With the way she came in here practically in tears, I knew she either knew you through being a freaky mutant superhuman—which was improbable, since she would've just come in with her costume on instead of jeopardizing her identity, or your girlfriend in real-life, who you foolishly trusted enough to tell the biggest secret of your pathetic little dress-up life."

"Hey, ease up, doc," Spider-Man said, jumping back in bed.

House snorted. "Aw, the 'hero' has feelings. I thought they said you were_ funny._" He walked closer to the door. "I'll be back to check up on you in ten minutes," he said, dismissing his team with him. They exited the room and strolled down the halls of the Quarantine Wing. It sort of reminded House of his old team, composed of Chase, Cameron, and Foreman, and how they would rush down the halls throwing their theories at House while he mocked them.

Thirteen was the first to speak. "Wow. Spider-Man…"

"I _know," _Kutner said. "I'm gonna ask him for his autograph."

"You are not."

"Are too."

Suddenly there was a scream that echoed through the walls. It was the redhead. House and his team raced back, and they found Spider-Man in the bed, seizing. His body was shaking and convulsing, and the girl was hysterical, crying. "He's seizing! Hold him steady!" The doctors yelled, putting their pressure on his body to stop him from moving.

"Oh my god, _Peter!" _the redhead cried.

"Steady…he's not stopping. Quick, get—"

"Sedate him," House told them. "Sedate him a _lot."_

"Why?" Taub asked.

"When our 'hero' stops seizing, we're gonna need to run tests on him, whether he's willing to cooperate or not. So sedate him and get the 'hero' ready. It's a good thing I took this case from Jones, _huh, Cuddy?"_ House shouted over his shoulder at the woman standing behind the sterilized room. House didn't care how she found out that Spider-Man was staying here; he was happy to smile and rub it in her face that he was right to take the case. She nodded. "What's wrong with him?" Cuddy mouthed from the other side of the glass.

"I don't know." He said to her, then to the floor. He turned to his team. "Thirteen, run a tox-screen. Taub, check for neurological issues. Kutner, stay with the 'hero'. After all, you are his _biggest_ fan. Okay, Red, you're going to have to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," the girl said. "I am staying right by his side. If you think I'm gonna let your sticky fingers be in a room alone with him, when he is unable to protect himself because you just sedated the _crap_ out of him, you are _so_ wrong. His mask stays on, and _I _make sure of it."

House nodded, pointing with his cane. "Stubborn little cheerleader, aren't you?" He motioned to his team. "Fine. Set him up for an MRI while you're at it. Get me the results quickly. A dead 'hero' is the last thing this hospital needs for its reputation, isn't it?"

"Not funny," the girl snapped.

He stared her down. "Who's laughing?"

**_A/N: I'd just like to point out: I am NOT a doctor. Therefore, Spider-Man's medical condition is going to be really tough for me to write about and I will try to make it realistic. Also, I know many of you were looking forward to a clash of sarcasm between Spidey and House. I tried, but I had to get inside Spidey's brain and realize that his situation may be too serious for him to be joking around just yet. Thanks for all your support! _**


	7. Theories

House leaned on his cane, holding in his free hand a black dry erase marker. He stood beside the corresponding dry erase board, and his team sat at the table. "His tox-screen was a mess," Thirteen said. "It's the chemical explosion. But who knows what he could have inhaled!"

"So do you think the chemicals caused him to seize?"

"I think the chemicals are going to cause a lot more than that," House said. "Our little hero is unique. His body ticks differently than ours. The chemicals combined with his freaky mutation--that's what we're seeing here." He drew two stick-figures on the dry erase board. One had an odd smiley-face, the other had on something that resembled Spider-Man's mask. The drawing with the mask's body was portrayed differently, with muscles and odd little differences.

"So...how do we help him?" Taub asked, trying to make sense of the drawing.

"Is he sedated?" House asked.

"Uh...yes...?"

Kutner nodded.

"The only way we can figure out how his body is reacting to the chemicals is to figure out how is body works in general. I hope you remember disections from biology class."

"You have got to be kidding me. We can't do that! He's a person!"

"Plus his little redheaded body guard won't leave his side," Taub noted.

"He's not a _person,_ he's a lying glory-hog of a freak."

"What?" Kutner said, surprised by House's outburst.

"Oh please,_ 'hero'? _No sane person jumps into the line of fire. He's not selfless, he's an _idiot_ for trying to fool these people. What he says he does makes no logical sense--"

"And it has no relevance to the case, House. Even so, we can't just take his DNA."

"He shoots webs from his _wrists!_ Don't tell me you don't wanna know how _that_ works."

Suddenly Dr. Wilson entered the office. He threw two odd-looking contraptions on the table. "His body doesn't produce the webs. He made these 'web shooters' himself. Spider-Man apparently has a scientific mind."

"He _made_ these things?" House said, taking one off the table and trying it on. "A weird way for a guy to spend his free time..." After playing around with the adjustments, House pressed a sensor-button and a webline shot out and stuck to the wall. "Cool," he simply stated.

"House, enough playing around! Spider-Man could be really sick! He had a seizure, which calls for neurological abnormalities."

Dr. House nodded, taking off the web shooter and gathering both of them. "Check him for new symptoms. We can match them with some of the chemical toxins in his system to pinpoint which one his causing him to seize." He snatched his cane and headed down the hallway towards the Quarantine Wing. Dr. Wilson followed, and so did House's team. A minute later, Dr. Cuddy joined the mob as she tried to figure out what was going on.

House entered Spider-Man's room. The hero in the hospital bed moved his head to face them with great effort. The sedatives were obviously working. "Hey...where's the party?" Spider-Man said.

"Have you guys figured anything out?" the redhead asked.

"We think the chemicals are messing around with your neurological system," House said.

"You_ think? _I don't want you guys to _think_ you know what's wrong with me."

"You see, 'hero', your body is different than everyone else's. We need to know what makes you tick in order to see how the chemicals are screwing you over. We need to analyze your DNA."

"My _what? No! _I'm not handing you my DNA, buddy! I have the whole mask-thing going on for a reason!"

"And I have the whole cane-thing going on for a reason. You don't see me bitching about it."

"Whatever. Hey--can I get some pain killers? I have a really bad headache."

Thirteen rushed to his bedside. "How long have you had a headache?" she asked, checking his eyes and ears.

"Uh...five minutes? Why? Are the chemicals doing that?"

"I don't know," House said.

"Well...can you find out? I'm kinda freaking out here."

House smiled devilishly. "Do you know why I sedated you, Web Swinger? Because I had a feeling you weren't going to cooperate. SO either you help us help you...or I throw your little girlfriend out of here and force you to help us."

"Are you...are you_ threatening _me?" Spider-Man asked, his tone changing dramatically.

House nodded. "What, you're not going to turn into a crazy, green monster who--oh, sorry. Wrong superhero."

Spider-Man thought for a moment, then said, "Are there any other tests you can do? Besides taking my DNA?"

Thirteen nodded. "We can run a few. We won't ask to do that unless it's our last option."

House grumbled. "Fine. When are we going to figure out what chemicals he inhaled are--"

"House," Cuddy said. "The...uh...can I have a word with you?" House nodded and stepped outside the room. Cuddy's voice was low. "House, the police are here."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? Word somehow got out that Spider-Man is in our hospital."

"We can't tell him," House said. "He'll go nuts and leave. He can't leave."

"I'll take care of the police, House. But you need to make him aware of it! Lying to Spider-Man--if he is arrested here--"

"Relax, Cuddy. Go stall the cops. Tell them he's not in any state to talk to them, but you'll keep them up to date."

Cuddy put her hands on her hips. "So we're lying to the police instead?"

House nodded. "Yep. Good luck with that!" and he re-entered the room.

_**A/N: I'd like to just note that the Marvel Universe is more closely related to Ultimate Spider-Man. Thanks for everything, you guys! I have so much planned for this baby! It is by far one of my favorite stories. **_


	8. New Symptoms

The television in the room was on, but neither of the people inside was watching. Spider-Man and his girlfriend were holding hands, as each of them were afraid that they didn't know everything. What if Spider-Man had some odd new disease because of the chemicals? What would happen?

"This is nuts, MJ," Spider-Man said. "I should've just gone to the Baxter Building. I know there's a medical center and I'm sure Mr. Fantastic would've helped me out."

"But The Baxter Building doesn't have Dr. House," said a woman as she entered. She had light hair and very clear skin. She wasn'y wearing a white doctor's robe, like the others were. She smiled. "Sorry to intrude."

"Who are you?" Said the redhead defensively.

"I'm Dr. Cameron. I used to work for Dr. House."

That sparked Spider-Man's interest. "Is he good? Can I trust him?" Spider-Man asked her honestly.

"I...he..." she stopped, looking at the costumed teen in the hospital bed. He seemed so weak, just lying there. Yet he had amazing strength and always perservered. She smiled. "You are in good hands."

_"Dr. Cameron,"_ said a voice. They all peered at the door. Dr. House was standing there with his new team. "What are you doing here?"

"I--"

"Out. My patient. No touchy." Dr. House walked over as Dr.Cameron exited the room with haste. House didn't even acknowledge her as she passed. Spider-Man wondered what kind of boss House must have been. Worse than Jameson?

"What if she had something important to tell me?" Spider-Man asked in an annoyed tone.

"What, just like how Wilson wants to waltz in here thanking you for saving his brother?"

"Who's Wilson?"

House ignored the question. "Nothing she could tell you is as important as the juice_ I_ got for you. The police are here."

Spider-Man sat up in bed. The redhead stood._ "What? Why?"_

"They just don't like you," House said with practiced sarcasm.

Spider-Man threw the sheets off his bed and jumped out. "I am_ not_ going to jail!"

"Where do you think you're going? You'll have a seizure while you're _swinging!"_ Taub called after him as he made for the window.

Spider-Man paused. "I am not going to jail."

"Get back in bed, you idiot!" House said. "You're not even well enough to go to jail. But as soon as you are, I'll help the boys in blue with the handcuffs."

Spider-Man didn't move. "Why?"

"Oh please. Hero? I don't think so. Not you."

Spider-Man jumped back in bed. His head was pounding, anyway. "Jameson's growing on you, huh?"

House ignored the comment. "You are a stupid little kid playing dress-up who thinks he's this selfless, heroic symbol of hope and all that's good in the world. You think you bring rainbows and ponies to people." House mocked. "But you're really a fool for believing you can make a difference and trick everyone into thinking you're a hero. You save lives. So do I. I don't wear some dumb mask and call myself a hero. And do you realize the police that are out of work because you show up to do_ their_ job, or the ones that quit because they can't stand your costumed, smart mouth anymore? You're no hero."

"He_ is_ a hero!" the redheaded girl shouted.

"Calm down, MJ."

"Yeah. MJ," House mocked. He walked over to the foot of the bed and looked at the chart. He flipped through a few pages and then reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out an orange bottle of pills. The prescription told that it was Vicodin. Spider-Man asked, "Is that for me?"

House poured two pills into his palm and threw them into his mouth. "Get your own," he said. He then pointed to the chart. "You're nauseous?"

"Yeah. It might be the meds, or the fact that I don't like you either. Your face makes me wanna puke."

House was too involved in the chart to care what the dumb kid said. "What else...you say you're still tired?"

"The sedatives that you forced on me, remember?" Spider-Man said.

"They should've warn off. I didn't sedate you that much, even if I wanted to." House said. "You're fatigued. New symptom, along with the nausea."

"New symptoms? What does that mean? What--"

Spider-Man suddenly convulsed. His arm was twitching, and the girl screamed "Do something! He's having another seizure."

House just stood there, staring. "No...he's not..." House studied the movements Spider-Man was making. "Uncontrolled jerking movements. Another symptom."

"What's wrong with me?" Spider-Man asked. There was fear in his voice.

"I don't know."

Suddenly the motion stopped, and he was no longer jerking his arm. He stared at his arm as if it was some foreign object he had never before lain his eyes upon. "The chemicals are doing this?"

House didn't answer.

"We think so," Kutner jumped in.

"Just...just figure out what's wrong with me," Spider-Man sighed. Something caught House's attention then. He passed Thirteen, grabbing her stethoscope and pulling from around her neck. He listened to Spider-Man's breathing. He listened carefully. When Spider-Man took his sixth of seventh deep breath in, House nodded. "His chest is tight. He's wheezing slightly. Get some oxygen on standby." House told Taub.

"So...now what?"

"Now I am going to go relax in my office, play my guitar and have a cup of coffee while my team tries to figure out what's wrong with you." House grabbed his cane firmly and walked out the door and into the halls of the Quarantine Wing.

Spider-Man looked at the three doctors. "What kind of doctor is he?"

"One of the best," Taub bit his lip after he said so, and the team followed Dr. House out the door.

**_A/N:Happy Holidays, Everyone! _**


	9. Investigations

"The twitching could be caused by any number of things!" Thirteen argued as they all entered the office. House limped himself over to his board and picked up a dry erase marker. His team sat at the glass table and watched him write _Fatigue, Wheezing, Headache, Nausea, Jerking Movement. _"Either our hero has tourettes, or it's a new symptom."

"It could all be stress related. Imagine what the kid goes through on a daily basis."

"Oh, and I suppose_ now _he allows the stress to get to him? It's not stress." House said.

"What about sleep deprivation? Could cause the fatigue and headaches. Nausea from--"

"He's not an insomniac. He told us he sleeps just fine!" Kutner argued.

"Everybody lies," House said.

"Not about how many hours of sleep they get, and I doubt Spider-Man would be_ anything _but cooperative. He's scared and he wants to get better so--"

"So what? So he can almost get himself killed again?" House spat.

"What about Mono?" Thirteen said, playing with a pen.

"Depends. Has Spidey been smooching lately?"

"Ask the redhead," Kutner smiled.

"We're getting off-topic. The chemicals more than likely are causing his problems."

"It could be head trauma--"

"Off-topic!" House shouted. "What chemicals were on the screen?"

Thirteen flipped through a chart. "Um...we have methylbenzoic acid and diethylamine. There were traces of ammonium chloride, Crystalline silica, and less than one percent of benzene--"

"Crystalline silica could explain the wheezing. Benzene could be toxic," House said, thinking.

"Lastly, Amyl acetate."

House ruffled his brow. "Banana oil? What kind of chemical plant is this?" He nodded. "Okay. Oxygen mask to help with his breathing. The Banana oil could have caused central nervous system depression, double check on that. If we treat all the chemicals at once it could complicate his body, since he's 'special'. I...oh boy." The team turned to see two police officers standing behind the door. They did not look happy. House looked at his team. "Don't say anything," he told them, and then exited his office to greet the officers.

"Hello, officers." House said. One officer was very tall and pale with a lazy eye. The other was a little shorter than House. He seemed young and inexperienced.

"Are you Dr. Gregory House?" The tall, pale officer asked.

House turned around and looked at his office door. He slapped the name plate with his cane. "It would seem so."

"Are you treating Spider-Man in this hospital?"

"Can I plead the fifth, or does that no work outside of court?"

_"Dr. House," _the young officer said.

"Yes, I am treating him. But you can't see him."

"Why not?"

"He's in the Quarantine Wing. Unless you want to catch a nearly deadly disease I'd say he's in no condition to see you. Unless you're into that sort of thing."

"What's wrong with him?"

"If I knew, he'd be with you, on his way to jail."

"I want frequent updates," the older officer told him.

House nodded. "You may want to check Dr. Wilson's background, too."

"Dr. James Wilson? Why?"

"For sexual harassment.I thought work was supposed to be a safe environment."

The officers nodded and walked down the hall. House smiled and reentered his office. His team was gaping. "Well?"

"Spider-Man is very sick. He can't be seen by anyone other than his doctors."

"You lied to the police to protect him?"

"No. I don't give a damn about that dumb kid. But there's something wrong with him. I want to figure out what." He motioned at his team to get moving. "Start the treatments. Come back to me with any problems, or if you just can't stand being away from me for too long."

His team stood, pulled down on their white lab coats, and exited the office. Thirteen stayed behind to speak with him. "Dr. House, what if the chemical is progressing in his body? What if there's nothing we can do?"

"Then Webhead's screwed." He stood up, snatched his cane, and started walking. Thirteen thought of following him, but decided to look into other possible theories. House fastened his pace, eying each individual that he came across. He saw three other police officers doing rounds. Cuddy was speaking with one of them before she entered her office. He followed, opening her door. He didn't bother knocking. He never did. She was on the phone, but hung up as House entered. "What?"

"What did you tell the police?"

"To go see you. I didn't want to say anything that might interfere with treating Spider-Man. I knew you could think of something. So, what did you tell them?"

House cocked his head. "Do you wear your shirt open like that on purpose, or do you just unintentionally give boners to all the guys in this hospital that dream of being on you at night?"

"House!"

"I told them that Spidey-Widey was deathly ill and in the Quarantine Wing, and that he wasn't ready for any visitors. They want to be kept in the loop."

Cuddy buttoned her shirt. "So what will you tell them?"

"Whatever I want," House said, He stood up and turned to leave. But before he did he asked, "Did the police ask about Wilson?"

"No, why?"

"No reason."

"House! What did you do?"

But House had already left.

* * *

Thirteen had just finished explaining the various treatments that they were experimenting with, which did not make Spider-Man any more comfortable. He didn't understand most of the things that the doctors thought were wrong with him. The redheaded girl seemed to be more worried about the police. Thirteen assured her that "House is taking care of it." 

"It's fine, MJ. Don't worry. The cops don't have any warrants out for me. _Current _ones, at least."

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" Thirteen asked Spider-Man. "When House was ripping you apart, you didn't say anything."

Spider-Man shrugged. "You get used to it. People not trusting you, I mean. But yeah, it'd be nice to know that your doctors likes you enough not to kill you. House isn't going to inject me with something that could kill me, right?"

Thirteen smiled. "He's interested in your case. He really wants to figure it out. And, just for the record, not _all _of your doctors think you're a liar. Kutner likes you."

Spider-Man nodded. "Are you sure House never met Jameson?"

Thirteen gave him a confused look. Spider-Man made himself laugh. "Put _those_ two in a room together and see what happens."

The redheaded girl Spider-Man constantly referred to as MJ seemed to appreciate his attempt at humor. Thirteen went to leave and said, "And don't worry. The police aren't coming anywhere near the Quarantine Wing. At least, not any time soon."

Spider-Man nodded, thanked her, and continued his conversation with the girl about why Electro truly was as dumb as he made him to be.


	10. Tears Of A Stranger

"House, what the hell did you tell the police about me?" Wilson asked, barging into the office. House was throwing a tennis ball up into the air.

"That you look at me longingly. But who wouldn't--I'm strangely attractive."

Wilson shook his head. "Never mind. How's Spider-Man doing?"

House pointed his cane at the tree doctors headed towards his office. "We'll know in three...two...one..." The team entered, Taub carrying a clipboard. They stood in a straight line and Taub cleared his throat. "We treated for the silica and benzene, and the banana oil isn't causing his nervous system to malfunction. We're back in square one."

"No, we're not. We still have a few other chemicals to work with here. Since when do you guys give up so easy?" House looked out his office's glass windows to see Cameron walking by. House abruptly left, calling her name. She didn't stop until House nearly tripped her with his cane. "What were you doing with my patient?"

"Spider-Man?"

"No, Batman," House said sarcastically.

She shrugged. "I was curious."

"You could have ruined everything by going to see him. Blown our cover."

"The cover you lied about to the police, you mean?" Cameron asked.

"How do you know that?"

She simply smiled and entered the elevator. House jumped in as the doors began to close, and they were soon the only two inside. "How did you know?"

"People talk. It's no big deal."

The elevator doors opened to the first floor. Both stood there, shocked.

The front lobby was in a frenzy. Lights were flashing, cameras were filming, reporters had their microphones pointed at anyone they could find. The police were the only thing holding them back from searching the hospital. "People talk," House repeated at Cameron. He limped his way over to the crowd and shushed them. Loudly, he said, "I'm Dr. House. I am Spider-Man's doctor. Or, unless you're all pathetically desperate to film someone else?"

There was an uproar of questions. House actually felt bad for the superstars that had to deal with these people regularly. But he knew most of them deserved it, so the sympathy didn't last at all. It never surfaced, really. It was more like thinking about possibly thinking of feeling something that, when masked, may slightly resemble pity.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! Jeez! Don't you people have lives to get back to? No one is going to give you any information, so leave. Go!" He held up his cane in a threatening manner. "I've got a long stick I'm not afraid to use it!" The reporters, of course, did not move. "Damn. The cane threat normally works," he said to a police officer. House turned to leave, sick of the hungry reporters.

"Dr. House! What is causing Spider-Man's illness?" a reporter shouted out.

He turned around and smirked. "Banana oil," he said harshly.

"Can I quote you on that?"

"If you want to quote my sarcastic, mocking and obviously incorrect answers to your stupid questions then sure, go ahead and quote me." Having enough of the craziness, House entered the elevator again. It was then that he realized he had completely lost Cameron.

House took the elevator to the floor that held his office. Before he got out he was sure to press all the buttons, lighting them all up as he exited. He found that his team was not in the office, but actually doing their jobs. House got out his guitar and, to amuse himself, starting to try and figure out the Spider-Man theme song. He had managed the "Spider-Man, Spider-Man! Does whatever a spider can!" verse when someone knocked on his door. It was a girl, her face stained with bleeding mascara. She was shaking as she entered, holding a hat in her hands. "D-doctor House?"

"Who are you?"

"Where...is S-Spider-M-M-Man oka-a-ay?" Her voice was trembling out of her throat.

"Again, who are you?"

"P-please? I-I need to know."

"Are you related to him?"

At first she did not know how to respond. She was quiet, but then nodded. It was obvious by her delay to reply that she was lying. "Your acting lessons paid off, kid," House said. "But I'm not telling you anything. Doctor-patient confidentiality. It's a bitch, huh?"

The girl did not take the news well. She busted out in tears, shaking even more. She stood there awkwardly, and House simply stared. Once she left he watched where she had once been standing. "What the hell was that about...?" he wondered aloud. But then his team came back into the room, and it was time to fix a superhero.

_**A/N: Sorry, I know it is slow! I'm trying here! **_


	11. The Back Hall

Thirteen was the first to speak. House didn't even acknowledge their presence in his office. "House, we--"

"Shh!" He interrupted instantly. "I'm thinking."

The staff waited their silently as he played with a tennis ball, rotating it in a circular motion in his hands. His fingers were tense, gripping it tightly. _Who was that girl?_

"Uh...House?"

He blinked and looked up, his mind still going. "Do whatever you want to do. I need to go see Wilson." With that he stood, clutching his cane and dropping the ball, and headed out the door. He saw two police men headed towards him, so quickly he turned the other way towards Cuddy's office. House was surprised to see policemen down that hall as well. He was not in the mood to speak with policemen, though he rarely liked to speak to anyone.

Dr. Wilson was emerging from the hall adjacent, going through some x-rays in the not-so-decent lighting. House grabbed his white coat and stopped him before the policemen could see him. Wilson dropped a result paper and bent to pick it up. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"Some girl made her way into my office crying, asking to see Spider-Man," House told him.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Dying for attention or information. Since when do you care about those things? You've got a superhero to save, in case you forgot already."

House grumbled. He really did not care for the kid. "I don't know why I bothered telling you, anyway," he said, limping down the hall way where Wilson had just come from. It was a in the back of the building, towards a staircase no one really used. The thump of his cane on the tile seemed to echo in its silence. He was happy to be away from it all for a moment. Who knew treating a superhero was such work?

"Doctor House?" said a cold voice. "You are Doctor House, correct? I saw you in the lobby."

House turned around. A man wearing sunglasses and a brown trenchcoat was standing before him. He had dark hair, a sort of pudgy face, and a broad frame. His smile was...odd.

"What do you want?"

The man smiled. "What I want is simple. Where is Spider-Man?"

"We can play 20 Questions, and you'll lose, otherwise there's no way I'm telling you."

The man removed his glasses, showing his face. It was striking how familiar he looked! "Who are you?" House asked.

Suddenly a long, metal arm emerged from one of the coats. It locked itself around House's neck and threw him against the wall. "I am also a doctor," the man laughed. Doctor Otto Octavius.

House wasn't sure how he felt. He'd been punched, shot, gone through serious surgeries, but somehow the look in this insane man's eyes were all the more terrifying. House never admits fear. But he was pretty damn close at that moment; he was shocked, speechless, and afraid. Afraid of what, exactly, he could not be certain. "Tell me where he is!"

House wanted to. He really did. He didn't give a damn about Spider-Man. But something prevented him from spitting the words out. He just remained in Octopus' grasp, unblinking and silent. His patience wearing thin, his metal arm tightened its grip around House's neck. It was hard to breathe, and House gasped but still could not speak.

"Useless!" Octavius shouted in his face. The metal arm raised House behind its owner's back, and threw him into a wall. House crashed through it, plaster and dust flying everywhere. He tasted his own blood, and he found himself deaf to all the screams and panic around him. He could hear the metal arms clashing against the floor. He was coming.

_**A/N: I'm sorry the chapters have been rather short. But I really am trying. I am working on a lot of stories, outside of Fanfiction as well, so I am trying the best I can.**_


	12. Action At Last

House's leg was painful on a regular basis, which is why he was practically married to Vicodin. But the pain now was so unreal, as he looked down and saw a piece wood was sticking out of his thigh. He knew he couldn't stand, not with the pain and without his cane, so he tried moving backwards, using his palms for traction. Doctor Octavius emerged through the hole in the wall, which he smashed to make bigger. _"Where is he?" _his shouts practically made the room rumble.

Octavius' arms grabbed House by the shirt. "I am no fool, Dr. House! I know you have been treating him! Where is he?"

House didn't say a word. He, for once, didn't know what to say.

"You are useless!" Octavius screamed again. He threw House across the floor, slamming him against a wall. He smiled, using two metal arms to rip into the ceiling above where House was lying. Wires and rubble could be heard breaking, and then it started to fall. House used his hands to try and block his face, knowing he couldn't get out of the way in time. As he watched the pounds of debris fall, he felt himself being jerked out of the way. Spider-Man, in his full, but ripped, costume, leaped towards House and yanked the doctor with him as he landed safely away from the wreckage.

House looked at Spider-Man, his face in confusion. "Man, I love my spider-sense," the hero said aloud. He turned around to face Doctor Octopus, whose grin had gotten wider.

Standing and trying to seem strong and healthy, but not fooling anyone, Spider-Man said, "Are you_ nuts_, chuckles? Attacking a _hospital? _That's low, even for you."

"I don't care what you think. As long as you're dead and buried, then I am happy."

"Oh, you're gonna let me be _buried_ now? I thought you were going to brutally mutilate my body until there was nothing left for them to find--that's what you said last week, anyway."

Doctor Octopus lunged towards him, his face showing pure hate. Spider-Man jumped out of the way, screaming, "Stop it! This is a hospital! Stop!" Dr. House had managed to stand up, but he was in pure wonder. Spider-Man jumped and dodged with such grace. And he saved him. That kid dressed in crazy spandex saved his life. It was amazing--Spider-Man was still a kid, after all. He was...Dr. House was distracted when he saw the teenage girl standing there, crying. Her red hair was in her face. Dr. House limped his way over to the girl, biting his lip to deal with the pain in his leg. He ushered her with him. "Come on. I don't know if Octavius knows your face. Run."

She looked down at his thigh, with the piece of wood still sticking from it. "You're bleeding."

He pointed down the hall. "Go! Find a closet to hide in or something. I don't know. I can't go...I need to find my cane! I can't...ah! I can't walk!" He said loudly at her. The girl nodded, her mascara bleeding down her face, and ran. House limped around, scanning the floor. He needed his cane!

"Watch out, Ockie-Poo! I'm contagious!" House heard Spider-Man say.

"I'll rip out your throat!" Octavius shouted, slamming his metal tentacle into the ground where Spider-Man had just been.

"Aw, don't do _that! _Then I won't be able to make fun of you!"

"I am tired of your mockery!"

_"Tired_ of it? Gee, you have no sense of humor, huh? That's probably why you went to the Dark Side. But I _do _hear they have cookies..." Spider-Man dodged a blow from the raging lunatic. He grabbed a stapler off a desk and chucked it at him with such force that it almost dented a metal arm.

House gasped, seeing his cane lying on the floor behind a the desk. He limped, pulling his leg, over to get it. "I guess you can't have the best of everything," Spider-Man went on, still running around to stay alive. He was right by House now. "The good guys get the perks of being able to go out in public--though people scream "stay away from my baby!" when I go out, and you guys get the cookies. But you get the dumb names_ and_ lame costumes. Does Electro still look like a neon starfish? I haven't seen him in a while!" Suddenly Spider-Man stopped, and he started to lose control of his body. He was having a seizure. He dropped to the floor a few inches from where House was standing.

Doctor Octopus smiled the most devilish smile House had ever seen. "I am going to enjoy this," he said.

**_A/N: I'm posting this on all my fanfics. Please bare with me--I know that it is taking me longer than usual to update, and that the chapters are relatively short. My personal life just got a hell of a lot more hectic, and I am trying to keep up with my fics as best as I can._**


	13. Taken For A Fool

Otto Octavius had dreamed of the moment that he saw Spider-Man's corpse before him. He could taste it. And the hero was on the floor, helpless, convulsing. Octavius had never smiled so widely.

Octavius raised a metal arm dramatically, winding himself up. Time seemed to stop for him. He wanted to remember this moment. Everything about it._ It's my time now._

He screamed then, aiming the pincers of the arm towards the floor and Spider-Man's head. It didn't seem to move fast enough; it was slow-motion, but it all happened so quickly at the same time. As it made impact, he smiled, hearing the sound of a hero breaking. A feeling that was foreign to Octavius rushed over him, and he felt like he could finally breathe without someone trying to strangle him. But when he pulled the arm away to see the mess he had created, there was no blood or body. The feeling was gone. And so was his air. His eyes looked around frantically, and he saw Spider-Man's arm being pulled by a cane. Spider-Man had stopped seizing. House looked up, meeting Octavius' eyes.

_"You dare?!"_ Octavius screamed. He was so furious, House thought the man would rip out his heart. Octavius charged towards House, ready to kill. His bloodshot eyes seemed as red as his face. As his arms nearly connected with House, but then he tripped and fell to the floor. Spider-Man had webbed Octopus' feet down, saving House's life for the second time that day. "See? You fell down, too. Told you I was contagious." Spider-Man said. They both looked down at Octopus. He wasn't moving--maybe he had hit his head so hard as he fell that he went unconscious. Nobody ran to see if he was all right.

Spider-Man looked out House. "Thanks," he said. He was half expecting a thanks back, but knew he wouldn't be getting one. "Well," Spider-Man said, "this is gonna make the news, huh?"

Suddenly Octavius stood, screaming. The veins on his neck were bulging outwards. His two tentacles grabbed Spider-Man and squeezed him so tightly that House thought the hero would burst. Spider-Man yelled out, feeling himself being squished. His eyes were tearing and he was gasping, being deprived of such precious, life-giving air.

Octavius' eyes were fixed on the mask of this boy that had ruined his life. "You're a fool, Spider-Man," he mumbled.

"Y-you're the fo-f-fool," Spider-Man managed as he struggled.

Octopus loosened his grip. "I am the fool? _I am the fool?!"_

Spider-Man inhaled rapidly. "You're the fool, Ockiepoo," he breathed, "because while I am talking to you now my jackass of a doctor is--" Octopus suddenly moaned and interrupted. Octavius fell to the floor abruptly, his metal arms crashing. Spider-Man was released and looked at House, who was still holding his cane up in the air as he had just done to strike the corrupt doctor in the back of the head.

"Hey!" Spider-Man whined. "Let me finish my joke next time!"

"It wouldn't have been funny anyway," House smiled. Spider-Man was taken back from this expression that he thought impossible. Spider-Man nodded. "He should be out for a while," Spider-Man told him. "You hit him pretty hard."

House smiled again. He'd enjoyed it. "Before all hell breaks loose, get back to the Quarantine Wing. You're girlfriend is hiding in a closet somewhere."

Spider-Man nodded. "Thanks, House. Really."

Again, House did not return the gratitude. He watched Spider-Man turn around and walk past all the shocked people inside the hospital. House stared at him, even after he was out of sight. Policemen came running from the stairwell, their weapons drawn. A younger officer nearly fell over when he saw the huge man with tentacles harnessed to his spine lying on the ground.

"Sure," House says, _"Now _the police come."

**_A/N: Sorry about the length! I know, I'm terrible. I will not be updating for a week or two--it's my birthday and also midterms, which means more studying and partying(they go together well in the same sentence, huh?) and less time for fanficing. I'll try to get on, though. Sorry, and enjoy!_**


	14. Blood On The Floor

While his patient was back in the Quarantine Wing, Dr. House sat in his office. His feet were not propped up against his desk, he was not throwing a ball up into the air, and he was not listening to music. His blinds were closed, his lights off, and he sat there in the dark. Thinking.

It was as if he didn't know himself anymore. He had been faced with death numerous times today, and at first he felt unaffected. But that is why he was so deep in thought. He had been uncaring. Death did not scare him. He did not see his life flash before his eyes. He did not see a list of regrets. There was nothing.

_Nothing._

_Nothing? _

Why was there _nothing?_

Dr. Wilson, as always, knocked and entered at the best possible moment. "House," he said. "You okay?"

House did not reply. He didn't look at Wilson; his eyes were fixed on something invisible, resting in the corner.

"You have a patient to treat still, you know. Spider-Man may have beaten Octopus, but he's still sick."

House reached for his cane and stood, brushing himself off of any remaining plaster that had been on his clothes from when Octavius threw him into the wall. He still couldn't believe he had been thrown into--and went through--a wall. How many people can say that? How many people would want to say that?

Without a word, House walked past Wilson and entered the halls. The lights hurt his eyes, and he had to adjust as he made his way. He hadn't seen his team in a while. "I'm glad they're worried," he said later. "Since I was, y'know, almost killed twice." He strolled by the scene where Octopus had fallen, and then he saw the hole in the wall. It didn't leave the hole in the shape of his body, like in the cartoons. A shame. That would've been funny. Maybe not at that time, given the circumstances, but later.

There were police everywhere. House had been asked to stop numerous times, but he wasn't really in a social mood. His eyes were fixed straight ahead of him; towards the Quarantine Wing. There was broken glass on the floor, glittering his path. A light fixture was broken, and it swayed from side to side, blinking.

House entered the Quarantine Wing without making eye-contact with a single person. He continued towards Spider-Man's set room, unsure of how things would be. He entered, and stopped in the doorway. His eyes were fixed on the bed, and at first he didn't understand. Spider-Man was not there.

Wilson had been following him, a little behind since he had been kind enough to stop for one of the officers. House asked, "Where is Octopus?"

Wilson shrugged.

House walked inside the room, and the first thing that he noticed was the trail of blood on the floor. House, even with a limp, took off.

After speaking with numerous police officers, House learned that Octavius had been moved. But by who? It was unknown. His whereabouts were unknown. Meaning, somehow, he was still here. And he had Spider-Man. No one believed House's theory, but he knew it. He just knew it. The blood on the floor belonged to Spider-Man.

He went back, following the trial with an armed officer, who he had persuaded to come with him. Octavius was angry and desperate. Maybe he wasn't thinking properly. Maybe he was irrational. Maybe he already killed him. The blood, instead of decreasing, was redder and redder. Thicker. Denser. Which meant that Spider-Man was bleeding out.

The blood then turned into a smeared trail; Octavius had dragged the body. The trail stopped at a door into a handicapped, one-person bathroom. The first thing House noticed was that the door was off one hinge. Quickly, House opened the door. Octavius was inside, all right, hovering over a body. The officer pulled his gun out, his hands shaking. Octavius heard the officer reload, and he lashed out and dove out of the bathroom. Octavius wasn't a fool: he had crashed through a window and left, not wanting to be arrested. House, out of the way, rushed inside the bathroom at that moment Spider-Man was lying in a pool of blood. He wasn't breathing.

_**A/N: In case you lovely readers haven't noticed, I need to get my creative juices flowing. I'm trying--I've just been so booked for time lately.**_


	15. Underneath It All

Everything had calmed down, slowly, but surely. Dr. House had no choice then but to tell the police everything that had happened. A search team was out looking for Doctor Octopus as they spoke. Spider-Man was okay, at least for now. He had been given CPR until he had a pulse, and then everything started to unfold after that. As House spoke with the police, his team was in his office, trying to figure out what was making him sick.

"Spider-Man is under arrest, Dr. House," an officer told him.

"What charges?"

"Endangering everyone in this building, trespassing--"

"None of that was his fault."

The officer seemed uncaring. "When Spider-Man is healthy enough to leave, you contact us at once. Understood?"

House simply walked away, turning his back on the officer and heading down to the Quarantine Wing. Spider-Man had been given medicine to numb the pain, and he was sedated. House entered, the halls filled with policemen. He was recognized now as "Spider-Man's Doctor", and all the uniformed men and women in the hospital had their eyes on him

House limped into Spider-Man's room. The redhead girl was over by the windows, staring at the sky. Spider-Man was barely awake. The police had ordered House to strap Spider-Man down, and he had followed those orders. Spider-Man was restrained, tied to the bed by his arms and wrists. His costume was still ripped and torn. Something inside House churned. It was amazing to see a superhero, so strong and seemingly invincible, tied down to a bed like a weakling. He had been treated for his most recent wounds; he was all stitched up, and the bleeding had been compressed.

"Heya, Doc," Spider-Man managed.

House stood there, his head bowed, leaning on his cane. The girl spun around and looked at the doctor. "What's going on?"

"MJ," House said, revealing to her that he most certainly knew her name, "You need to leave."

"No," she said simply.

"MJ," Spider-Man said. "It's safer. I'm guessing the cops still want me to walk out of here in handcuffs?"

House nodded.

"Super."

"But it won't be for a while. We still need to figure out what's wrong with you."

"You still have no idea, do you?" the girl said. "What kind of hospital is this?"

"This is a hospital that was just attacked by a fat guy with metal arms, and that's filled with police. But we're trying, that's all you need to know."

"All we need to know?" the redhead spat. "Are you joking?"

"MJ," Spider-Man said. "Go home. Tell my aunt something. She's probably worried."

Mary Jane looked at House, her eyes fixed on his. She pointed to him. "If your hand even touches his mask, I swear to you, mister..."

"I'm not interested in what he looks life," House told her. "I'm interested in saving his life."

The redhead girl could have stared him down for hours, with a look that could rip flesh from bone. House truly saw how much she cared then. "My boyfriend is having seizures. He has stitches where blood was pouring out of. He's strapped down to a bed. And he doesn't know what's wrong with him. I don't want to leave."

House nodded. "But you should go before the police get involved. I wouldn't do anything with Spidey's name. The cops, however..." He turned his back then, only to hear the sound of fingernails on dry skin. Spider-Man had his bimbo gal pal itching his arm for him, since he was still restrained. Interested, House walked over to the hero's bedside. "How long have you been itchy?"

"A little while. I didn't think anything of it."

"Stupid kid," House murmured. He grabbed Spider-Man's arm and rolled his glove down. His skin underneath was red and blotchy. House pointed to the holes and rips in his costume, through which showed his skin was severely irritated. "Jeez!" Spider-Man exclaimed.

"No one thought to look under your costume. I need to check your face." The redhead stood, about to protest, when House said, "Relax, cheerleader. You can do it. Look for any irritations."

"Like what?" she asked.

House rolled his eyes. "I'll give you creative control." He then pulled the blue privacy curtain that was draped near the bed all the way around. He could hear him grunting, lifting up his mask. House was so tempted to pull that curtain down and look. See who Spider-Man was. But he didn't. He wanted to solve this case.

The redhead pulled the curtain away in a few moments. "He has redness on his neck, and his eyes are red, too."

House nodded. He turned his back and started to limp out of the room and towards his office, to inform his team of his latest genius.

_**A/N: I'm going on vacation, so I'll be a little slow with the updates. Sorry! I know you don't deserve it. Thank you for being so patient with me.**_


	16. It All Fits

"Hello, angels," House said as he entered his office. His team was spread out, seated at the table with papers in disarray. He moved over to his white board and grabbed a marker. He wrote down Spider-Man's newest symptom underneath all the others listed. He allowed his team to read what he had just wrote down. "For a bunch of doctors, you sure are stupid," he started, not including himself in that group.

"Redness? He has a skin rash?" Thirteen asked.

"Though you wouldn't know since no one bothered to check under his costume," House said. "His bimbo gal pal is to thank for this one. The kid's been itchy for a while, but he didn't think it was big deal." House rolled his eyes, though Spider-Man was not in the room. "Is it me, or am I just surrounded by morons today?"

Kutner sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"It's just you," Straub hissed. "He could have had an allergic reaction," he said.

Thirteen nodded in agreement. "It's possible."

"If it was, it would have most likely gone down already. Thanks for playing, though," House said, his sarcasm famously rolling off his tongue with his eyes narrowing. He walked away from his white board and said, "Thirteen, read off the chemical chart again."

She did so, reciting all the names of elements that she had told them all earlier. House nodded once she finished and said, "Very good, class. Now, for a piece of candy, who can put all the pieces together?"

Kutner eyed House, smiling. "You know it, don't you?"

House didn't answer him. "Let's go off-topic for a second. How many of you know a lot about farming?" When no one said anything, he moaned, "Good God! Pick up a Farmer's Almanac once and a while." He sat down in a chair, sitting backwards with his hands resting on the top. "The farmers depend on their crops to make them some money. But, way back when, but not too way back, some bugs started eating all their hard-grown plants. So, bugs are causing a problem. What's a farmer to do?"

The answer struck Thirteen immediately. "DDT," she said. "The pesticide."

"But it was banned years ago," Taub told her.

"But it fits the symptoms."

"The chemical plant wasn't--"

House rolled his eyes and said loudly, "Shut _up_, both of you!" He looked at Kutner and said, "Jeez, I feel more like a babysitter than a docter. You two play nice now," he motioned at Thirteen and Taub. "Thirteen, once again, read off the chemicals on his tox-screen."

Thirteen took out the test results and recited, "Methylbenzoic acid, diethylamine, ammonium chloride--"

"Stop!" House said. "Ring a bell?"

"Ammonium chloride is a chemical in DDT!" Thirteen said. "And DDT causes problems with the nervous system, and also causes skin irritations. It fits perfectly."

House nodded, smiling evilly. "The chemicals can be found in his blood, urine, semen, and in his fats and muscles. Do a few tests to confirm it," he ordered. "And then tell the hero he'll be all right, but that he's going to get arrested." he shrugged. "Tough luck."


	17. The End

Spider-Man made his hospital bed, trying to do so as quickly as possible. He just wanted to get the hell out Jersey; the hospital, to begin with. Mary Jane watched him, her face showing her disapproval. "Peter," she hissed. "You should not be going home yet!"

He sighed. How many times did he have to explain himself? "They gave me the medicine, I'll be fine," he told her. "I can't stay here. I see cops poking their noses around here every hour." He turned around and faced her. "Do you _want_ me to go to jail?"

"Don't be stupid!" she hissed at him.

"A little hard for you, isn't it?" said an all too familiar voice. Dr. House walked in the room, his cane tapping against the floor. "Leaving without a goodbye?"

Mary Jane stood, marching over with a pout on her face. House threw a black hooded sweatshirt at her, and it landed on her head. "What the--?"

"You'll be able to get out of here easier without the police noticing you," House told her. "Unless you want to be interrogated, because that's just _soooo_ kinky..."

Mary Jane turned around to Spider-Man, who nodded at her. "It's fine_--I'm_ fine. You need to get home," he told her. The redhead was turning redder than her hair, and he could see how worried she was. House just rolled his eyes. "He's a _superhero,_ for God's sake! Do you think he needs a babysitter?"

Mary Jane turned around to look at her costumed boyfriend again. She wrapped her arms around him, whispering something in his ear. She then started her leave, throwing her hair under the black sweatshirt so that it would not draw attention with its bright color. House nodded at Spider-Man as the two were alone. "Leaving so soon?"

"I'm not going to jail," Spider-Man said simply.

House nodded. "The medicine is in your system, and your freaky powers probably make healing a lot faster for you. I'll tell the police...something..." he said, and noticed that Spider-Man was unmoving. "What? You wanna get outta here free or in handcuffs?"

"Why are you helping me?" Spider-Man asked.

House rolled his eyes. He did not appreciate being questioned. It was rare that he did something like this enough. But somehow, in some way, the wall crawler had earned it. He watched Spider-Man head towards the window and he smiled wickedly. "Rest up, _Peter."_

Spider-Man twirled around. "What did you just call me?"

_"Peter,"_ House said. "I heard your little girlfriend shout your name when you were convulsing."

"I didn't know we were on a first-name basis, _Greg."_

House smiled at the attempt. "I'm not the one with the mask," he noted.

"It's not Peter," Spider-Man said quickly. "It's Flash. Flash Thompson."

House's brow wrinkled. "The redhead called--"

_"Please,"_ Spider-Man chuckled. "I'm a superhero. You think I give my first name out to groupies?" With that he gave House a little salute, and he pushed the windows open to make his getaway. House stood there long after he was gone, standing in the same place, thinking with that same, numb expression on his face.

"House?" It was Wilson, who had come to see the wall crawler off, but had missed his exit.

House turned, limping out of the room without a word.

"Where are you going?" Wilson asked.

House smiled. "To Google Flash Thompson."

**_A/N:Sorry for the long time it takes. I've recently fallen ill, and I don't have a lot of time to get on. I am going to shoot for an epilouge for this, though I may just leave it. Thanks so much for everything. I really liked this story._**


	18. Epilouge

_Three weeks later._

Dr. Gregory House was late. Again. This was usual, and even if Cuddy said anything, House would either ignore her or comment on her outfit or how he was almost positive she was pregnant. It was then Cuddy's turn to ignore him.

But Dr. Cuddy marched towards House when she saw him limp in, sporting his usual leather jacket and motorcycle helmet under his arm. "House, where have you been?" she demanded of him, her heels echoing on the floor and her hair bouncing as she moved. She held in her hand a case file, one that had been waiting for House's eyes to read.

House analyzed her clothing. "Button your shirt. This is a hospital, not a strip club." It was clear which choice he had taken today.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. _"House," _she said, biting her lower lip with frustration. "Your team is waiting with Foreman," she said, handing him the folder. When smirked and went to walk away and blow her off, she snapped, "I'll move your parking space to the "E" lot."

House took the file, feeling his ego being slapped. He moved his cane, limping down the hallways of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Heading back to his office where he would drop off his helmet and jacket, he was humming some stupid song he had heard in one of those Free Credit Report commercials. He made it his new goal to learn how to play the song on guitar; he could figure out the melody in the time that Cuddy expected him to go over the file she had just handed him.

House entered the key into the door of his office, holding his cane to his side with his underarm as he flicked on the lights. He frowned, his eyes narrowing on the figure sitting in his chair, whose feet were propped up on his desk. "Comfy chair," the intruder smirked under his mask, though House couldn't see it.

House shut the door, moving into his room and placing his helmet on a table. "What're you doing here?" he asked, stripping himself free of his leather jacket.

Spider-Man removed his feet from the top of House's desk, though he remained seated. "Gee, it's nice to see you too, Greg."

House was about to call Spider-Man by his first name, though he still was not sure if it was Peter or Flash, and he planned on revealing his knowledge of his true identity when he was absolutely sure. That way he could rub it in his face. "Unless you were saving my cat from a tree, I'm guessing this isn't strictly business."

Spider-Man stood up from the chair. "Yeah, I dropped your cat off at your apartment," he said sarcastically.

"I'll be sure to make Mr. Fluffawuffakins write you a thank-you card."

Spider-Man chuckled a bit, but then shook his head. "I guess I'm here to thank you. I didn't really get a chance to when I was running from the police."

House nodded. "That died down," he said. "Though someone like you doesn't ever have it easy with the police. Maybe if you stopped wearing your pajamas to work they'd have more respect for you. I tried it once, but some people just don't appreciate Family Guy pajama pants." He took a deep breath, deciding it best to cut the small talk. "You're not just here to thank me, are you?"

Spider-Man shook his head. "I researched DDT after I got out of Jersey. It's linked to cancer and all sorts of crazy--"

"Calm down," House interjected. "Jeez. Are all you freaks in tights this overdramatic? You were clean when you left the hospital." He walked over to the superhero, his expression flat. "This is considered breaking and entering, which I'm sure those sticky fingers of yours can't resist. But I'm not your personal doctor, webhead."

He nodded. "Relax, doc. I know. But it wasn't as if I can walk through the front door." He shrugged. "Are you sure I'm all right, though?"

House shook his head 'no', leaning on his cane. "I'm too lazy to do any tests. Just let me know if you start dying."

Spider-Man laughed, leaning back against the wall. "You'll be the first person I call, Greg. Thanks."

"Don't thank me," House snapped. "Leave my office. Jersey, alltogether--you're not supposed to be out here. Go to New York City, like the rest of the freaks. They all seem to swarm there."

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. "Right, whatever. Thanks, House," he said a little bitterly, moving over to the window. At that moment, Thirteen entered the room. She was a bit taken back by the superhero standing before her, as she never expected to see him again. She blinked, doing a double take. She turned to House. "You two friends now?"

"No," Spider-Man said before House could reply. "I just stopped by to check up on my health. But your boss is a little too busy." He opened up the window, sticking a foot out. "It was nice seeing you, doctor," he said to Thirteen before swining off out of sight.

Thirteen eyed House. "You turned down Spider-Man?" she asked, arching a brow.

House exhaled, staring at the open window. "I don't want to give the kid an MRI," he said, his eyes narrowing at the place where Spider-Man had just been standing. "I want to yank off his mask." He turned, limping out of his office with his cane. Thirteen shook her head, moving to the window and shutting it closed. There was always something House obsessed over, and his mind harped on these obsessions. His newest one with Spider-Man would not end well.

**_A/N: It took a hell of a long time for me to do, but I finally got it up. I am trying my hardest to get back into Fanfiction. Sorry it took me a while._**

**_Also, don't miss the sequel! Yes, I was talked into it. It's already up and running. _**


End file.
